by Bijou Hunter
“You’re sexy as hell, but I can’t choose to embrace morning breath,” she says and gestures at the sink. “I put a toothbrush out for you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m in charge!” she cries, scooting past me. “It feels great but a little overwhelming.”
“No worries,” I say, walking into the bathroom while she heads to the kitchen. “You won’t be in charge for long.”
I piss and then brush my teeth. The bathroom feels too small for my build. The entire trailer makes me duck even when there’s space.
In the kitchen, Daisy pours cups of coffee, but I’m more interested in her.
“Let’s sleep at my place tonight,” I say, wrapping her in my arms.
Daisy’s kisses are hot, and I suspect she really has chosen to embrace the violence of the night before. I protected what's mine, and she approves of my possessive nature. At least, that’s what I get from the wild kiss and her roving hands.
We nearly end up in bed, but Daisy’s alarm goes off, and I’m stuck with a painful pair of blue balls as I drop her off at work. Based on her expression when we part, she’s nursing damp panties. Our mutual suffering gives me confidence about our future.
Those blue balls are nothing compared to the pain of knowing I have to dump the JJ news on Bonn. Better he learns it from me than someone else, but I still don’t feel like being the guy to ruin his day.
Bonn mainly works in construction but picks up shifts as a pizza delivery man during off seasons. Somehow, he makes enough to pay for a condo in our building. If he didn’t have the money to live here, I give it to him. He’s a great guy and has always had my back. He is loyal even if my family is never loyal to him. The only reason his single mom got any support when Bonn was growing up was because of the Hallstead women. They sent checks but refused to include him in family events. After all, Jude has plenty of bastards running around, and no one wants them all showing up for Christmas.
I catch up to my cousin as he cleans out his used SUV. The once messy teenager grew into a clean freak. Having a kid changes people, he often says. I know he wishes he changed before Chevelle was born so he’d still have Ruby. Instead, he’s a single dad working his ass off to make his kid proud.
“Heard you freaked out on some guy,” Bonn says, dumping trash from his SUV. “Dayton claims you fight like a little bitch, and I should teach you how to be a man.”
“He’s a classy fucking dickhead, ain’t it?” I grumble, ready to glue my brother’s ass closed. “Did he say anything else about last night?”
“That you brought Daisy to the chili thing and called her your woman. He was rather irritated about that.”
“Yeah, Dayton is anti-commitment lately.”
Bonn pushes his dark hair out of his eyes and smiles at me. “What did Daisy think of your freak out?”
“She thought I was sexy,” I say, skipping the part where she freaked out and wanted space. “The guy I banged up was from out of town. He apparently works with your half-brother.”
“Which half-brother would that be?”
“A new one who calls himself JJ.”
Bonn shrugs like he doesn’t care and returns to cleaning. “Howler has plenty of kids, Camden. I’m not sure why you think I should reach for the Kleenex over this one.”
“Howler brought him to the club and was making a big deal out of JJ.”
“The guy probably kissed the old man’s ass. Doesn’t take much to get on his good side,” he says and then adds, “Doesn’t take much to get on his bad side either.”
“This guy seems like he plans to hang around in Hickory Creek.”
“So?” Bonn asks, giving me a frown.
“So nothing. I just thought I’d tell you.”
“You know I don’t care about club business, and I’m long past giving a shit about Howler throwing me any hugs and kisses. Don’t worry about it, Cam.”
Nodding, I lean against his SUV. “Do you think I’m moving too fast with Daisy?”
“No,” he says, leaning into the SUV to grab a scrap of paper. “Daisy over thinks shit. The longer you let her think, the more likely she’ll talk herself out of getting serious. Not just with you but with any guy. The chick tends to cock block herself in life.”
“There’s something special about Daisy. Giving her up isn’t an option.”
“Then don’t give her up,” Bonn says and shuts the SUV door. “Dayton makes shit too complicated. I think he’s overcompensating for being a dumbass for most of his life, but he now over thinks things like Daisy. Don’t be like them. Just decide Daisy is yours and keep her. She’ll either say yes or no but don’t wait around for her to make big moves or you’ll never get anywhere. Everyone has weaknesses, and that’s hers.”
“That’s her only weakness. I swear she even makes me like her cats.”
“Love will change your outlook, man,” he says, giving me a pat on the shoulder before he heads inside.
Smiling, I roll the word in my head. Love. I feel it for my family and the club, sure, but this thing with Daisy is deeper, more painful. She makes me doubt myself, and no one is a bigger fan of the Cam Man than me.
Twenty Three - Daisy
I’ve dreaded this conversation since Camden and I began spending every night together. He wants to be with me, and I love his company, but Friday nights aren’t negotiable. I suspect Camden will see the issue differently. While he’s accustomed to winning everything he wants, I need to learn how to win occasionally.
“Tomorrow night, let’s head out to the Hillside Steakhouse. On the weekends, they serve special French fries,” he says while we sit in my trailer and relax in our post-coital bliss.
“I can’t go out on Fridays,” I nearly whisper. “I made an exception last Friday since we’d just started dating, but from now on, I need my Fridays to myself.”
Camden’s demeanor changes immediately. His body goes tense next to me on the couch, and he hits the DVD pause button. “Why?”
“I have plans with my sisters on Fridays.”
“What kind of plans?”
Shrugging, I stare at the frozen TV screen. “The kind that don’t involve you.”
“I don’t know what that means. Sounds wrong somehow for the world not to revolve around me. Are you sure this is kosher, babe?”
“Don’t make an issue out of it,” I say, hitting play on the remote.
The movie Old Boy will need to wait once Camden pauses it again. “Wouldn’t dream of making an issue out of something so insignificant. Now, why don’t you tell me what do you do on Fridays with your sisters?”
I glance at him and shrug. “Girl shit.”
“I have no sisters so throw me a bone and explain what ‘girl shit’ means.”
Sighing, I lean back on the couch and pet Hong Kong resting in my lap. “We talk about our periods and giving birth and the best tampons. That sort of thing.”
“Every Friday?” he mutters, turning off the TV as if making a point that we don’t get to watch the Korean thriller unless I bow to his will.
“Yes.”
“You’re lying about something. Fess up.”
Standing up, I walk to my stereo and turn on a CD. I bob my head to the sounds of the Go-Go’s singing Head Over Heels. Camden remains on the couch where I left him. He glances at the music and then at me. I know he’s plotting to get his way.
So far, I haven’t figured out how to beat him in a disagreement of any kind. If he wants something, we do it. Even bitching and struggling, I always end up relenting under the power of Camden’s personality. There must be a way to defeat the spoiled sex god.
“What time do you and the girls get together to talk about tampons?” he asks, finally joining me in the kitchen where I dodge his groping hands.
“Why?”
“I realize I’m not hip to the problems of today’s ladies. If I sat in with you girls, I might learn a thing or two about how to treat the fairer sex.”
“No.”
“How come? Don’t you want me to respect chicks more?”
“If you want to get in touch with your feelings, watch Oprah.”
“I don’t think she’s on TV anymore.”
Patting his cheek, I sigh. “It makes me sad for you to know that.”
“What are you hiding?” he asks, trapping me in a kitchen corner. “What happens on Fridays?”
“I told you.”
“You’re lying, Bourbon Babe. I know you are because you’re a horrible liar. My theory is you can actually lie well but choose to do a shitty job with me because you want me to know the truth.”
“I really, really don’t.”
Camden keeps me blocked in the corner. His gaze only leaves mine for long enough to glance down at Seoul scenting our legs before heading to the couch. I wish I could sneak away as quickly as the cat.
“What do you do on Fridays?” Camden asks again.
“What do you think we do?”
“I don’t know, but it’s not tampon talk.”
“We have been known to discuss tampons on occasion.”
“So what do you do on Fridays?”
Shrugging, I try to weasel my way past him. He only shifts his hip and blocks me.
“Camden, you’re being an ass.”
“I’m only worried about you. What if you’re addicted to gambling or porn? I’ll need to help you kick the habit by gambling or watching porn with you.”
“I’m not addicted to anything except maybe Twix or possibly hamburgers.”
“And me, right?” he asks, nudging his knee between my legs. “I need you to be addicted to me. I’m an insecure douche that way.”
“Yes, I’m addicted to you,” I say, smiling reluctantly.
“Then tell me what you do on Fridays.”
“Why?”
“Why not? The more you hold out, the more I want to know the answer.”
“You keep your secrets. Why can’t I have mine?”
“I have no secrets. I only have things I don’t tell you because I know you don’t want to know. This Friday night thing is something I want to know.”
I glare up at Camden, who smiles down at me. We play the staring game for a long minute. I nearly sneak past him when he’s distracted by a song on the stereo. Before I can dodge him, he wraps an arm around me and leads me to the couch.
“What in the hell are you listening to?” he asks.
“That’s the Pet Shop Boys,” I mutter, stuck on his lap. When he only stares at me, I elaborate, “They were big in the 1980’s.”
“You picked the wrong decade to get moist over, babe. The 1970’s are better. The music was outstanding, and so were the films. What did the ‘80’s give us besides big hair and bad synthesizers?”
“I think I might have to break up with you now.”
“Nope. So what happens on Fridays?” he asks, refusing to give up.
“We listen to 1980’s music.”
“Why would that be a secret? Is it because you know the music is frigging awful?” he teases, poking my chest before his fingers decide to caress my soft nipple.
Leaning into his touch, I remind him, “The ‘70’s had bell bottoms, shag carpet, and porn mustaches.”
“Like I said, it was the best. So what happens on Fridays?”
“You’re fucking annoying when you nag.”
“Well I want to know, and you’re going to tell me. For whatever reason, you make me nag before you give in. If anyone’s to blame for my annoying fucking behavior, it’s you. I forgive you, though.”
Rolling my eyes, I tug free of him and sit on the other end of the couch. “We do karaoke in Ruby’s trailer.”
Camden studies me. “Why would you hide that from me?”
“It’s our private business.”
“You’re a bad singer, aren’t you?” he says, chuckling. “No worries. I’m still addicted to you.”
I cross my arms and sigh. “Nagging is an awful habit.”
“It truly is. You should stop forcing me to stoop that low.”
“Stop blaming me for your crap.”
Smiling, he reaches out and caresses my cheek. “Can I listen to you sing?”
“This is why I didn’t tell you,” I say, jumping up and walking to the kitchen. “Karaoke is my private thing with my sisters, so, no, you can not come and listen.”
“Why is it private? How bad can you be?”
“It’s not about that. It’s that we get to be together and do our thing, and no one bothers us.”
“What about Chevelle and Harmony’s kid?”
“They stay at my mom’s place overnight.”
Camden follows me to the kitchen and pins me to the fridge. “Do you drink?”
“Yes.”
“It’s just you, Ruby, and Harmony?”
“Yes.”
Camden steps back and nods. “I will allow this.”
“You’re pissing me off.”
“Think about it from my point of view. I’ve never committed to a woman like I’m committed to you. It’s important to me for you to be safe and happy.”
“Well the safe part you have down, but you’re not firing on all cylinders with the happy part.”
“You’re too sensitive.”
“No, I like to do what I like to do.”
“Yes, but that was when you were one person. Now you’re part of a couple, so it matters what we both want.”
“Can I tell you what to do?”
Camden smirks. “Sure.”
“Will you listen?”
“Listen? Yes. Obey. Maybe. It’ll depend.”
“So I don’t have to obey you then?”
“No,” he says, crossing his arms. “If you can figure a way to win an argument, I’ll bow to your will.”
“I’ll find a way to win, and then you’ll pay for all the nagging, Camden Cheesestick Rutgers.”
“It’s sexy when you growl my name like that. You sound the same way when I make you come.”
Rolling my eyes, I hurry away from him. He’s winning like he always does. I want him so much, but I need alone time too. Well, not alone time as much as sister time.
“Is the karaoke machine here?” he asks, picking me up and carrying me to the couch. “I’ll sing you some Skynyrd so you’ll know real music.”
“It’s Ruby’s.”
“I wouldn’t think her the karaoke type.”
“She won it in her work’s Christmas party raffle when she was still bartending. We tried it and had fun. Now it’s our thing,” I say, stressing “our” so he hopefully won’t show up and force us to let him join.
“What do you sing? Is it this crap?”
I caress the dark hairs poking from his ripped black t-shirt. “You need to stop talking shit about my music.”
“Sorry, but I calls them like I sees them.”
“KISS sucks.”
“Careful,” he says, tugging at my nipple through my bra.
“I hate Led Zepplin.”
Narrowing his eyes, he pinches the nipple. “You keep that up and no oral sex for you, young lady.”
“Pink Floyd gives me diarrhea,” I announce, trying not to laugh.
“Woman,” he grows. “
“The Cure could kick Deep Purple’s ass.”
“Must make you shut up.”
Kissing me, Camden refuses to let me speak for the rest of the night. When I talk shit about the Rolling Stones while he eats me out, Camden sticks his finger in my mouth and orders me to suck it. Later, I mention The Who sounds like a colostomy and he fills my mouth with cock. I’m laughing so hard at his reaction I nearly choke. We find a fun way to trash each other’s music, but I’m still at a lost on how to win an argument against the nagging Viking.
Twenty Four - Camden
Missing Daisy on her karaoke night, I don’t know what to do with myself. I consider hanging out with Dayton, but he’s too busy chasing tail. Knowing Bonn is working, I realize I need more damn friends. The other club
guys are with their wives, girlfriends, or sluts on the side. I can sit alone at home, or I can hang out with my mom. Like a good mama’s boy, I choose the latter.
Clara is in the kitchen when I arrive. I see my younger brother Hudson with his dad, Erik, in the backyard. Dressed in fatigues, they look ready to invade Baghdad. I don’t bother them, instead sitting at the kitchen island where Clara cuts lemons.
“Have you spoken to your dad about De Campo’s Pizza Shop?” she immediately asks.
“He’s thinking about it.”
“What’s that mean?”
“He doesn’t want to do something to piss you off, but he can’t look weak, so he’s pretending to think about it first. De Campo should be fine.”
Clara walks over and gives my cheek a motherly peck. “You’re a good boy.”
“I reminded him how Common Bend has a handful of strip clubs, and he still has his eye on the town.”
“Taking Common Bend is dumb, but your father is an emotional man at times.”
“He lost the town to the Reapers, and he thinks taking it back fixes a past humiliation.”
“Men and their egos,” Mom says, walking to the fridge.
“You’ve heard about Jude’s newest bastard.”
“Yes. Jude brought him by Alice’s house the other night.”
As the town sheriff, my aunt has a nose for bullshitters. “What did she think of him?”
“She called him Eddie Haskell.”
“Who’s that?”
Clara sighs. “Kids today have no idea what they’re missing.”
“I still don’t know who that is.”
“He’s a kiss ass character on the show Leave It to Beaver.”
“Sounds about right. What did you think?”
“I thought my brother was acting like a damn fool, tripping over himself to show off some kid claiming to be his.”
“Claiming?”
“Jude swears there’s a DNA test to prove it, but I don’t know if I believe everything is on the up and up. Jude has other kids, but this one is making him behave like a clown.”
“The guy bugs me. I’d get rid of him if I could.”
Clara pats my arm. “But you can’t. Not without stirring up a hornet’s nest in the club.”